Gold Star Mothers
by DesolateMoondust
Summary: It's Christmas day; 2 months and 6 days after the loss of Gina Campbell, and Naomi is fast coming to accept that no matter how much darkness she may experience, there will always be specks of light to guide her through.


**Author's Note: Just a little something, like always. One-off piece. Deals with death, grief and the sunshine that family emits.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own skins. Sigh.**

* * *

><p><strong>Gold Star Mothers<strong>

Can't sleep, can't move, can't do much but hold this frame and stare, really. And breathe. Can't forget to breathe now, can we? Even though it is the one thing my mother does not, and has not been doing for 2 months and 6 days now. I never thought I'd be without my mum, it's not something you really register transpiring in life until it just happens, and there's nothing else you can do but feel it. It really makes you think about mortality and how it all works, because it's such an oxymoron with life, this death business. It's incomprehensible. It's a pain I've never felt before, and I know that we'll all feel it at some point, but I didn't expect it so soon. It's always so soon, isn't it? Time is just an illusion, some hopeless concept that we apply to our lives to give it meaning, yet we're never truly satisfied with it, not when we're always yearning to fast forward or rewind because it's never enough.

_It leaves such a distaste of impermanence, doesn't it?_

It doesn't even matter if you're close or not to the person, when death occurs, it creates an impact on your life. When I think back on my relationship with my mother, I remember how even though we weren't that close to start with when I was growing up, we had more than made up for it with age. We grew to appreciate each other, I think, and I'm thankful for that.

I allow my finger to trail the image contained by the glass, noting how young I once was and how completely satiated my mum looks: always projecting such a carefree expression in any given situation. I'm about five years of age in the picture, and it was taken Christmas day. I can remember the moment because one of mum's friends was staying with us at the time and was there to take a picture of us together. I'm sat there on the floor near the modest Christmas tree, unwrapping some gift, whilst my mum sits nearby in the shot, her smile bright and so proud; it actually hurts me to see it. This was when she really tried to make Christmas special for me, even if she never really believed in all of the Capitalist crap, she just wanted me to feel good, probably because of the absence of my father whilst growing up, and knowing it would prove rather difficult in the coming years for me. I think she knew just how bad it would affect me later on in life, even if she never really verbalised it, it was present in everything she would do. I think a part of her believed I would blame her, that it was somehow her fault for him leaving. But what I don't think she ever knew is that when I did grow up and eventually find my own love, I realised she was always enough for me, because she was all I knew, and I was okay with that. And I regret never telling her that. Even with this image, it pains me because I should have told her. I should have shown her. I should have done more.

Isn't this all we're left with when it comes to death, a lot of longing and unspoken words? It's a cruel thing when we once had all of the _time_ in the world to convey everything that's important, but chose not to. Or rather, didn't know we had to - because we do. You have to, before you don't have that chance anymore.

"I love you. I miss you. I need you." I hear the shuffling of the duvet before I feel it move beside me and then the arms that encircle my shoulders, drawing me backwards.

"Baby.."

"I know.. Sorry." She wraps her arms around neck and rests her chin on my shoulder. I can tell she misses her too as she exhales, her eyes nonetheless resting on the image.

"I miss her too."

"Yeah, I really can't imagine the day that I won't." I feel Emily snuggle into me, her warmth making this somewhat better, like a flare in the night sky. She brightens up my world, even just a little. It's enough to get me through the darkness I feel most days.

"We need to be strong today; we can get through this, together." I close my eyes and slowly nod, leaning back into Emily, taking a moment to just exist in a world where my mum does not. The fact makes me tremble every time I think about it, for it makes me feel alone. But then I hear the most wonderful and uplifting sound ever conceived on Earth which forces me to open my eyes and look towards the door. There's a moment of stillness before the door creaks open, and a head pops in.

"Mummy! Mummy! Wake up! It's Christmas! Christmaaaas." She's like flash before me, rushing into the room and jumping onto the bed. Emily and I part just in time to make space for her to fit between us. The frame falls to the floor with a thud, which makes us all stop and look. I watch as my daughter slowly moves off the bed and picks up the frame, her face neutral as she stares at the picture.

"Daisy?" I hear Emily call for her softly, moving her arm across the duvet, trying to reach her. I sit there watching, knowing that deep down, I'm not the only one experiencing this loss. Daisy looks up with her deep brown eyes, so like her mother's that it stuns me for a moment, and makes me wonder how we could ever have created such a beautiful child.

"Do you miss her, mummy?" She then moves to my side, her eyes falling back to the frame.

"Every day, sweetheart." I can't be anything but honest with her as her tiny fingers sprawl over the photo, she giggles.

"You look so funny in this picture.. Nanny looks so happy." I chuckle, looking down at the photo too. I feel her plop herself down onto the bed and look back to me. I hear her quietly admit:

"I miss her too." I bring my arm around her shoulder and pull her to me, reaching out to take the photo from her and equally look at it.

"I was about your age in this photo.. Really hated that sweater."

"Makes you look funny, like a Christmas tree."

"Yeah, it really does, Naoms.. No kid should be wearing that much tinsel."

"No kid _should_ be wearing any tinsel at all." I retort, smiling at Emily. I turn to Daisy and narrow my eyes.

"I think I still have that sweater, actually… What do you say, Daisy; want to be your very own Christmas tree?" She grimaces, shaking her head vigorously.

"There's no way I'm wearing that, mummy! I've been a good girl this year. Santa wouldn't make me wear that. You must have been naughty!"

"Yes, mummy was naughty!"

"Na-uh! I was a good girl." They both laugh at this as Daisy climbs onto Emily's lap. I watch as they have a real good laugh at my expense, finding it absolutely hysterical.

"Har-har, yes, soak it up." I say with a firm smile on my lips, feeling considerably lighter.

"Will nanny be here today?" I look away from Daisy and feel myself tense up, hardening the grip that I have on the frame. I vaguely hear Emily talk to Daisy as I look down.

"We spoke about this, darling.. We won't be able to see her anymore."

"I know, but will she still be here?"

"What do you mean?"

"You said that when people die they go to Heaven."

"Yes?"

"When I was at school Tommy said that when people die, they can still see us and will look down and watch us from Heaven, even though we won't be able to see them.. So will nanny be in her yellow house looking down on us today?" I turn to look at Daisy and Emily, who both in turn look to me with two pairs of eyes that conflict for different reasons. I exhale and put the frame down on the bed, being careful to place it away from the edge.

"She will be, baby girl. She'll always be watching over you. You know that nanny loves you very much." I watch as a slow blooming smile spreads across Daisy's face, and just like her mother, manages to blanket my night sky with light. It completely lights up my darkness like fireworks, providing continuous explosive light in my world. I look to Emily who wears a small smile, one full of understanding and love. It makes me feel better, less alone, and less lonely.

"Can we open the presents now, mummy? Please please please!" She implores while fidgeting on her mother's lap. I hear Emily's husky laugh and it further increases the brightness in my life. Oh the salvation I receive just by being a witness to this scene, they have no idea how it helps.

"Okay! Go get Paddy and wait outside your bedroom. We'll head downstairs together and see what gifts Santa was kind enough to leave us." She squeals, jumping up and off the bed to race to get her teddy and begin our Christmas routine. Just as she leaves the room, she dives back in and wraps her arms around Emily, planting a kiss on her before moving to me and doing the same thing. She pulls back and gives me a pointed stare.

"Don't be sad, mummy: nanny's looking down on all of us... She knows you've been good this year, so Santa won't make you wear that sweater again." She then spins on her heels and charges out of the room, leaving in her tracks a very happy mummy. I turn to look at Emily who is already staring at me with those bright warm eyes; she understands everything without me needing to explain. She gets out of bed and pulls me up to stand with her. She wraps her arms loosely around my midsection, her eyes never leaving me.

"We'll wait for you downstairs, and then we'll open the presents together." She leans forward to press her lips against mine, and on contact, kisses me softly. It's tender and inviting, and I just wish we could have just one more moment together before we have to return to this day, but as expected I hear the pitter-patter of one Miss Daisy as she returns to the hallway with Paddy in tow.

"Mummy, Mummy! Can we go downstairs now? Can we please?" I pull back and look to Emily who smirks at me.

"She's so impatient, just like her mother." I roll my eyes and smile.

"Speaking about yourself in the third person, are we, Emily?" She swats me and laughs, tightening her hold on me slightly. I raise my hand up to her cheek and caress it momentarily, leaning forward to press my lips gingerly against her forehead.

"I love you." I silently profess, and I can tell she's smiling; it's something I've come to just know even without looking. You can't go all of this time without learning little details about your lover, your friend, your soul mate. Every little thing that Emily does I store in my mind, right next to Daisy.

"I love you too." See, I can hear it in her voice. And as I pull back to look into her eyes, I see the smile firmly upon her lips. It's a residence I would like to see be permanent.

"Don't keep our daughter waiting; you know how she gets when it comes to presents."

"She's a sucker for presents, just like her mother."

"Now look who's speaking in the third tense." I roll my eyes yet again and equally swipe Emily. She just laughs and let's go of me. Her eyes cloud over briefly, debating something before she reaches out to grasp my hand.

"She is right, you know.. Wherever Gina is, she'll be watching over you; over us."

"Yeah, more than likely in some communal living once again, maybe this time with the real Messiah.. I'm sure they'll be having words." She shoots me a smile and squeezes my hand.

"Mummyyyyy."

"Okay, mummy's coming." She then let's go of my hand and lifts herself quickly onto her tiptoes to kiss my cheek.

"You know she's going to haggle me until she opens at least one present without you."

"I wouldn't expect anything less… Now shoo, I'll be down in a moment, I promise." She pulls back entirely and walks to the door, reluctantly.

"I love you, babe."

"Love you too." She smiles again and then leaves the room. I can hear Daisy as she runs down the stairs with an equally hyper Emily in tow. They're both suckers for Christmas and presents and all of that. I miss having mum around because even though she amused them both at Christmas, she was just like me. The Christmas presents and trees and decorative items equate to no real value, it was just about being together, even if we didn't speak or want to be there. It was knowing that we love each other and that Christmas was just a way of uniting us together to celebrate that, even if it was in silence. It was our way of being. That was until Emily and I got together anyway, and Christmas for us started to change. The way we were together started to change too. I wasn't so moody and abrasive, and I actually came to respect and even like my mother. We were very similar, even though I would vehemently deny it to no end, I came to even revel in it, if only privately.

Through the years, Gina and I became more than just two people who shared the same DNA, we came to be acquaintances, friends, and then somehow, mother and daughter. I think that day arrived when Daisy did, and suddenly this relationship which I never truly gave much thought to, became this very important and meaningful element in my life. I could see reasoning where I once could not, and the drive and motivation behind it once I could. Not only did Gina and I become close, but she also proved to be such a great Nan to Daisy, especially in those early days when Jenna refused to accept her. But in time, and even with Gina's advice, Jenna came around to the idea of a granddaughter. I don't think I could have done any of this without Gina's guidance, no matter the amount, because the result is still the same:

I am Naomi Campbell, a mother, a partner, and a _daughter_.

I pick up the frame from the bed and look at it, tracing my mother's face as I do. I then gently put the frame down onto table, my eyes unable to tear away from it.

"Mummy, hurry up!" I sigh, but it's not nearly as exaggerated as it was earlier. I feel lighter, less heavy. I nod my head at the image and turn on my feet, walking out of the room. I head down one stair at a time, wanting to savour this moment. It's bittersweet really, because as I turn around at the bottom, I see the soft, delicate glow in the living room created by the numerous Christmas lights switched on, and I see two of the most important people in my life to date. And I know that I have yet to know and live with these two. I have an infinite amount of storing to come.

Even though I may no longer be able to store any new things that my mother may do, I know that I have years upon years of memories to carry with me. And like a wise woman once said: '_The people that make us happy are never the people you expect, so when you find someone, you've got to cherish it._'

Who knew that I would be so lucky as to be blessed two? And my god will I cherish it.

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you for reading! :)<strong>


End file.
